


Numbered Days

by SweeToxic



Category: NCT (Band), SM Rookies
Genre: Angst, Blogging, Death, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Terminal Illnesses, i mean exams, in which the author should be studying for her impending doom, the author is sorry, this is really self indulgence and sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:30:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8787259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweeToxic/pseuds/SweeToxic
Summary: "Cursor hovering over the ‘Publish’ button, Ten hesitated for a few second, contemplating if he should really post his mindless rambling. For some reason, the act of actually sharing the news with the world, even anonymously, seems to set the fact in stone – not that it wasn’t already. Ten is dying and nothing can change that, published or not."In which Ten is slowly dying and there's nothing he can do about it, so he decided to document the whole thing on his blog. Maybe when he's six feet under, his friends will be able to read it and remember their happy days together. Oh how he misses the days when his biggest problem is figuring out what to do about his crush on Johnny, not that it's not a problem anymore. He might be dying but his feelings aren't.





	

> **No more moping**
> 
> _Posted: November 16 th, 2013; 00:01_
> 
> Hello my dear anonymous audience o/, if there are any.
> 
> I don’t know if anyone will read this but I figured this would be a good way to document my unassuming life and get back on my feet after a whole week of hiding in my bed. >.<
> 
> One week ago today, I received my doctor’s report and the result were… shocking? Disappointing? I don’t know how to describe this feelings, words have never really been my thing.
> 
> Anyways, I was told that I had around two years to live, give or take a few. Hopefully it’s the former but that’s unlikely. Apparently I have a… malformation in my heart? I don’t really understand the science behind it, science have never really been my thing either.
> 
> Actually, most brainy shit aren't my thing. Dancing is.
> 
> That’s another reason why this diagnosis came as a surprise. I consider myself a very healthy person, sure I drink and smoke weed often, and my diet is total shit, but what college student isn’t like this? Other than that, I’m the perfectly healthy, in fact, I’d like to consider myself quite fit, with all the dancing I do.
> 
> Anyways… I’m getting off topic again.
> 
> So, long story short: I’m dying and I’d like to make the most of the time I have left. I’ve already wasted enough time moping around.
> 
> I don’t want people to treat me differently though. Where’s the fun in that? Knowing my friends, the little shits that they are, they’ll treat me as if I’m made of glass and that would be super fucking annoying. Totally not how I want to spend my remaining days on this earth. But…I do need somewhere to get all these feeling about my impending doom off my chest and this is where this blog comes in.
> 
> So what is what I’ll do. I’ll write shit and go on living my life as if I’m not fucking dying!!
> 
> Here’s to the (hopefully) happy days I have left!
> 
> \- Phon

 

Cursor hovering over the ‘Publish’ button, Ten hesitated for a few second, contemplating if he should really post his mindless rambling. For some reason, the act of actually sharing the news with the world, even anonymously, seems to set the fact in stone – not that it wasn’t already. Ten is dying and nothing can change that, published or not. With a mental “Fuck it!” he clicked the button and slammed his laptop shut.

There, he’s done it. He’s shared the condition of his life to the world and no one but him knows. He doesn’t particularly have any expectation for this blog of his; it was only one out of the thousands of blog on the platform, and with his mediocre coding skills, it doesn’t stand out much from the other blogs. With that being said, however, this does not mean he minds having people read about his story and comment on it. Maybe it’ll help him feel like he’s not going through all this alone.

Later, when Ten was lying in bed, he couldn’t help but scoff at the irony of the whole thing. He didn’t want to feel alone while dealing with the fact that he is dying and yet here he is, isolating himself from his friends. Friends that he knows love and care about him. He didn’t want anyone to know about his disease and yet he had just announced to the millions of people online that he his time is limited. When he puts it that way, his actions seems very stupidly opposing and indecisive. But the thing is, Ten’s predicament can’t be summed up with just a few facts; his situation is a lot more complicated than that:

Ten knows his days are numbered. He knows he will never grow old, never hear his friends whine about getting wrinkles, never see them find love and get married; he will miss out on so much but once he’s dead, he’s dead. He won’t have to deal with the repercussion of this, his friends will. They will be the ones who have to bury one of their own, the ones who will have to continue living without a crucial part of their group missing. It may sound egoistic but Ten knows of his importance in his friend group; he is one of the people who linked them all together, with his easy smile and friendly nature. This is why he does not want to tell his friends about his disease. He doesn’t want to spend his remaining days being treated as if he is about to drop dead any second. But more importantly, he doesn’t want his friends to remember him as a sickly boy, one that should be pitied and coddled; he wants them to remember him as the happy, energetic Ten, full of life and passion. For how long he can keep that act convincing, he doesn’t know, but he does know that he will endure to keep it up for as much time as possible. For the sake of himself and his friends.

With those thoughts in mind, Ten slowly falls asleep, his heart beating steadily against his chest. Hopefully, it will continue to do so until he is ready to say goodbye, but will that day ever come?

The sun rises too soon the next morning and Ten finally mustered the courage to message his friends for a meet up. He had been MIA for a whole week and, as expected, he was inundated with messages asking him where he had been and if he’s alright.

 

> **From: TY Track**
> 
> Ten!! Where have you been? We’re all worried, message me as soon as you read this.
> 
> _Sent: November 11 th, 2016; 16:53_
> 
> **From: Younghoe**
> 
> Where the fuck are you man? It’s boring having someone to diss Yuta with.
> 
> _Sent: November 11 th, 2016; 23:41_
> 
> **From: Yutasoba**
> 
> Did you get kidnapped by the Thai yakuza or something, dude? Does this mean I can inherit your manga collection? But seriously, message me.
> 
> _Sent: November 12 th, 2016; 01:58_

[+28 messages unread]

 

Fuck.

In his shock, he had forgotten about Johnny, and more importantly, he forgot about the fucking crush he has on the man, one that he’s been nurturing for the past three years. Is he going to die without letting Johnny know of his feelings?

**Author's Note:**

> Don't expect me to update this often, I wrote it on a whim while I was listening to my media studies lecture. I have no idea where this will go but I'll try my best.
> 
> [Spoiler: Don't get your hopes up about Ten getting better, I'm sadistic to all those I love]


End file.
